


at night we're painting your trash gold

by ironical



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Gen, artist!zayn, platonic zouis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 07:13:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironical/pseuds/ironical
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Louis happens to one day cross paths with Zayn, the artist, who doesn't see the trail of talent he leaves every time his paintbrush touches the canvas. Louis is determined to change that, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	at night we're painting your trash gold

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to marta, janna, and adrienne for reading through this as i wrote it and putting up with me pestering them. not thoroughly beta'd or brit-picked!
> 
> i got the title from fall out boy's song, "this ain't a scene, it's an arms race".

Louis is all sweaty from football practice, so the cool autumn air feels nice on his skin. He has his hands shoved into his pockets and he's humming Be Still by the Fray when he suddenly hears what sounds like someone spray painting near an alleyway. He's walking by the shops and it's getting pretty dark outside, so yeah, it probably is someone vandalizing property.

Louis usually couldn't care less, but he finds himself making his way over towards the sound anyway and—oh. He didn't expect himself to be rendered speechless and he _definitely_ didn't expect to come across the next Van Gogh because he's staring at a freaking masterpiece. Painted across the reddish-brown brick wall of the alley is a flurry of different shades of red. Louis thinks he can see shapes—two bodies purposefully blurred to mesh and camouflage within the picture—and he can feel the anger and bitterness seeping out of the painting.

"That's pretty sick, mate," Louis comments. Now that he thinks about it, it was pretty irrational of him to do so considering:  
a) He's talking to a complete stranger.  
b) Said stranger seems to be letting out his anger through vandalism.  
c) Aren't people who vandalize delinquents?  
d) This stranger seems to be an angry delinquent.  
So yeah, not the wisest choice he's made, but Louis has never been wise anyway.

The angry delinquent/stranger turns at the sound of his voice. His face doesn't look angry at all. His expression is pretty stoic. The stranger says, "Thanks," before turning back to his painting. He doesn't seem to be too worried about the possibility of Louis calling the cops on him for vandalism.

"It's a great painting, but you know you're vandalizing, right?"

The stranger only hums in response, not even looking at Louis.

"What would you do if I called the police or anyone who worked in the building and told them?"

"Whatever."

"Not that I would actually do that, y'know."

"Ok."

Louis cocks his head to the side and decides the stranger isn't a very talkative person. He voices this thought out loud.

"Not the first time I've heard that."

It's the first time Louis hears a complete sentence from the boy. He likes his voice, so he continues, "What's your name?"

"Why? Are you gonna call the cops on me?" the boy asks with a hint of amusement in his voice.

Louis is a bit stunned for a moment because he didn't expect the Not So Angry Delinquent to be the type to banter, but be quickly composes himself and laughs.

The stranger smiles, satisfied with the reaction he got from Louis. "I'm Zayn."

"Huh, first time I've heard that name. My name's Louis," He tells Zayn, smiling back.

 

Louis keeps on returning to the alley where he'd seen Zayn and they talk, much to Zayn's surprise. Whenever Louis shows up, his eyes widen by a fraction before he scrunches up his nose in confusion and asks, "Why do you keep coming back?"

Louis simply replies, "Because I like you."

Afterwards, they engage in an enthusiastic conversation about comics and argue over who's better, Iron Man or the Hulk (Louis was for Iron Man and Zayn was for the Hulk). Sadly, Louis has to go home shortly after because he has a pile of homework to do, so he and Zayn trade numbers. 

 

It's the third day Louis' visiting Zayn, and Zayn is working on his painting again, pointedly ignoring Louis who is petulantly rolling around on the ground because of the lack of attention Zayn is giving him. "Wanna play a game?" he asks him boredly.

"Depends," Zayn shrugs. He's still painting the same thing from the first day Louis saw him. He thinks it's coming together very nicely. 

"On?" Louis prompts.

"On what kind of game you want to play. I'm not going to play tag with you, Louis."

"I wasn't going to ask you to play tag!" he sputters. If Zayn were to look back at him, he would see him flailing before exasperatedly sitting down and leaning against the brick wall. "I'm not a seven year-old, you know!"

Zayn merely laughs.

Louis harrumphs, "It's a question game." Zayn turns to him and raises an eyebrow. "It's simple, I ask you a question, you ask me a question. If you choose not to answer a question, then I'll make you do something ridiculous. Same goes for me."

Zayn shrugs, turning back to his painting, "Whatever."

"Great!" Louis says gleefully, taking Zayn's answer for a yes. "I'll go first. Are you a mama's boy or papa's boy?"

"Mama's boy," Zayn responds, shading the two human-esque figures in his painting.

For a while, the only sound is Zayn shaking the can and spraying the brick wall. Louis coughs.

"Oh, I'm supposed to ask a question now, right?" Zayn asks, turning to face Louis.

He laughs, "Yes."

"Oh, sorry. Ok..." Zayn furrows his eyebrows in deep thought. "How many siblings do you have?"

"I've got four. Now Zayn," Louis says sombrely, "This question I'm about to ask you is pretty serious." He pauses dramatically before saying, "Are you for Coca Cola or Pepsi?"

"Um, both, I guess? I can't tell the difference between the two."

Louis' jaw drops. "You're _that_ kind of person? There's obviously a difference!" he cries indignantly.

"Yes, Louis, I am that kind of person. You just asked me two questions by the way, so I'll be asking you two questions as well," Zayn says. Louis opens his mouth and begins to speak but Zayn talks over him loudly, "Are you a morning person?"

"Not really, but it's not like I'm grumpy either. I wake up really tired so I drink some tea to wake myself up a bit," he replies.

"If you could go anywhere in the world where would it be?"

"Narnia," Louis answers with an expression that says _duh_. "What's your last name?"

"Malik. You?"

"Tomlinson. Ok, what do you do besides art?"

"I read and stuff."

"Huh, you don't look like the type to enjoy reading."

Zayn laughs, "What do you think I do in my spare time?"

"Delinquent-y things. What's the worst thing you've done as a kid?"

Zayn seems to contemplate this, "I was a pretty decent child...but I think the worst thing I did was pretend I believed in Santa until I was ten so my aunt would keep giving me an extra gift 'cause she was Catholic."

Louis tuts, "Terrible."

"What time do you get up on the weekends?"

"Around 10AM. If you could live your life as a book or film, what book or film would it be?"

"Ugh, this question wouldn't be so hard if I didn't watch so many films or read so many books," Zayn groans before squeezing his eyes shut, thinking deeply. He's silent for a moment before his amber eyes fly open and he says, "Harry Potter. You?"

"Grease. Such a great film. Have you ever measured your dick?"

Zayn's eyes widen comically and Louis fights the urge to laugh and keeps his face neutral.

He eyes Louis warily for a moment before he says, "I'm not answering that."

"Zaaayn," Louis whines, pouting.

"No. If you really want to know, you have to..." he glances around, and his eyes light up, "You have to go up behind that woman, smell her hair, and moan," he says, pointing to a middle-aged woman with brown hair walking down the street.

Louis laughs and gets up while Zayn watches, sniggering. He sneaks up behind the woman, grabs a handful of her hair, brings it to his face and moans, " _Oh god_."

Zayn's in hysterics, doubled over and clutching his sides. He nearly pees himself when the woman shrieks and slaps Louis across his face before making a break for it.

Louis' muttering profanities when he comes back, rubbing his red cheek before sitting back down. He glares at Zayn and huffs, "Fess up! Have you or haven't you measured your dick?"

Zayn's still laughing, so it takes him a while to answer. When he does, his face is pink and he's wiping at his eyes. "Yes."

Louis not so patiently waits for Zayn to ask him a question, staring daggers at him as he tries to collect himself.

"What's your most embarrassing moment?" he finally asks.

"Ugh, no," Louis groans, his face going red. He doesn't want to think about that.

Zayn sighs, "What do I have to do?"

Louis tries to come up with something good to get back at him, but gives up. "You have to...go up to a random person and pretend you know them."

Zayn rolls his eyes before setting down the spay paint can and walking over to a boy who looks about seventeen. He plasters on a delighted expression and says enthusiastically, "Hey, mate! It's been so long! Oh my god, I've missed you _so_ much," then proceeding to hug the stranger.

Louis snickers as he watches the stranger freeze up in Zayn's arms before saying, "I'm sorry, but I don't remember you..."

Zayn releases the boy, but holds him at arms-length. "Timmy, it's me! How can you forget me?" Louis thinks he genuinely looks offended.

"Um? My name isn't even Timmy? Who the fuck are you?" Not-Timmy says.

"Nobody," Zayn deadpans, before walking back over to Louis and taking to sitting down instead of continuing his painting. "Spill," he demands.

Louis glares at him, "If you make fun of me, I will take your paint and spray your hair."

Zayn reaches up to touch his dark quiff defensively. 

"Ah, so you're one of _those_ guys," Louis snorts, filing the fact away in his mind.

"Stop stalling. Just tell me already."

Louis scowls. "Fine," he says begrudgingly. "So I woke up one morning with a hard-on, and my eight year old sister decided to come into my room—not a _word_ , Zayn—and saw the tent under the blankets. She insisted on knowing what it was and when I told her to go away, she called my mum into the room and demanded her to tell me to show what I was hiding." He puts his head in his hands, "When my mum saw it, she started laughing at me. She told my stepdad later on. It was so embarrassing."

Zayn snorts at him.

"Fine, if you're so high and mighty, what's your most embarrassing moment?" Louis says, turning to him.

It's Zayn's turn to turn red. "I was in primary school, and I was riding my bike around the block. I saw the girl I liked and stared at her and ended up crashing. I fell off my bike and landed in some bushes. I yelped pretty loudly too, because her family came over and asked if I was okay. She was laughing at me."

"Ugh, yours isn't even nearly as embarrassing as mine. I was hoping for some blackmail material."

Zayn's eyes widen, "Oh, I just remembered something more embarrassing. Oh well, moving on with my question!" he says quickly so Louis doesn't have the chance to interject. "What's your biggest fear?"

He looks away and twiddles his thumbs sheepishly, "It's a bit embarrassing, really."

"Get on with it," Zayn says, motioning for him to continue.

"Um, growing up?" he says a bit hesitantly. He breathes out a sigh of relief when Zayn does nothing more than tell Louis it's his turn. "Ok, what's the embarrassing moment you remembered?"

"Nah, I don't feel like telling you. You said you'd like to live a life like Grease, right? I'm giving you the opportunity now. Go up to that lady," he says, gesturing to a short, blonde woman about their age, "and serenade her with a rendition of 'Sandy', John Travolta style."

"I swear if I get slapped again because of you..." Louis mutters under his breath, standing up. As he's walking away, he hears Zayn laugh. Wanker.

Louis walks over to the woman and dramatically places a hand over his heart, " _Sandy, can't you see? I'm in misery_ ," The woman surprises them both when she joins in with him on the next line, " _We made a start, now we're apart, there's nothing left for me_." Louis laughs and high fives the woman then jogs back to Zayn. "In your face, Malik!"

Zayn rolls his eyes, "Whatever."

"Ouch," Louis says, feigning offence, " _Sandy, Sandy my darling, you hurt me real bad_."

Zayn snorts.

"Just tell me already."

"Fine. Ok, so I was at a mate's party and had a lot to drink. The next day, I woke up to a killer hangover and a pretty embarrassing video." Zayn suddenly grabs his spray paint can and reads the back like it's the most interesting thing in the world, "It was a video of me um, snogging a toilet roll."

Louis cackles and watches as Zayn's face grows redder.

"Shut up, you arse."

"That actually beats mine," Louis manages through choked laughter. "I am definitely getting my hands on that video."

"Believe me, I am _never_ letting you see that video."

"We'll see about that."

 

Louis thinks Zayn really should've seen it coming. He's already known him for three days, and the third day just solidified his hunches on whether or not Louis was the troublemaking type of person. Zayn told him himself the day previous just before he had left, so he really should've expected him to show up to the alley one day with plans to wreak havoc (in the form of a water gun).

It's a particularly sunny afternoon for autumn and Louis decides to announce his arrival with a war cry and a splash of water to Zayn's back.

"What—" Zayn starts, turning around but is momentarily distracted by the water gun Louis launches at him (of course he brings another one for Zayn, he's not one to play dirty). He barely catches it before Louis' firing at him again. "Louis!"

"Yes?" he says innocently, shooting at Zayn again. He's just standing there after all, quizzically staring at the gun with a dumbfounded look.

"Who ever said I agreed to this?" he scowls, snapping out of his reverie and narrowly dodging the string of water sent his way.

"No one. You're being forced to participate against your own free will."

"That's unfair."

"Who ever said it was, though?"

Zayn only rolls his eyes and sprays water in Louis' face.

 

Louis' water gun finished first, an opportunity Zayn used to his advantage ("Foul! Foul!" Louis had shouted, only to be ignored). The end resulted in a Soaking Louis and a Sulking Zayn, who became Mr. Frowny Face when he saw his hair all mussed.

They're sitting in a comfortable silence; side by side, leaning against the brick wall behind them. They're both drained of energy, as well as a bit cold.

"Zayn," Louis says, kicking his foot.

He grunts in response.

"How long have you been into art?" 

"Since I was in preschool," Zayn replies languidly.

"Have you ever entered a contest?"

"Once, in middle school."

"Did you win?"

"I got second."

Louis wrinkles his nose, "Were the judges blind or something?"

Zayn huffs out a laugh, "No, my skills weren't as developed back then. Why're you asking?"

"'Cause I saw a flyer for a contest," Louis says, rummaging through his school bag. "Figured you should give it a go." He hands Zayn the flyer.

Zayn scratches the back of his neck, "Nah, I don't think I'd win anything. I'm not that good."

Louis scoffs. "'I'm not that good,'" he mimics, standing up and gesturing wildly to the mural on the brick wall.

"It's not even my best—"

"Zayn, the modest thing really isn't working out for you."

"I'm not trying to be modest!" he feebly protests. "And you've only seen one of my works."

"You're pulling my leg, mate. I've only seen one, and it isn't even your best. If this isn't your best then I think I'd need sunglasses to view the rest of them. They probably glimmer and shine so much they'll blind me."

"Oh, shove off. Quit exaggerating."

"Cross my heart, I'm not exaggerating. If you're really doubting your skills, then you obviously need a lesson from the Tommo." Louis takes one of Zayn's cans and begins to shake it.

Zayn raises an eyebrow.

"Just sit back and see how it's done." Louis waggles his eyebrows at Zayn and cracks his knuckles. He lifts the can to the wall, paints a five-year-old-esque picture of a smiley face sticking out its tongue, then steps back to admire his work. "Voilà. What a masterpiece. Shall I start the bidding at 150 pounds?"

Zayn laughs, "You're such an idiot."

 

_Louis Tomlinson: Zayn ! Bring a friend tomorrow . Or two I don't really care_

_Zayn Malik: what ? Why?_

_Louis Tomlinson: :)_

_Zayn Malik: Am I going to agree to whatever you're scheming_

_Zayn Malik: Louis !!_

 

When Louis arrives at the alley the next day with his friends Harry and Niall in tow, he sees Zayn and his friend whose backs are facing them as they eye his mural on the wall. He gestures for Harry and Niall to stay quiet before slowly advancing on the two boys, creeping up behind them.

"It's really sick, mate. All your stuff is ace," he hears Zayn's friend say.

"Cheers, Liam."

"Liam!" Louis exclaims loudly, causing both Zayn and Liam to jump and turn to him. Niall laughs. "That's such a great name."

"Christ, Louis," Zayn huffs.

"Anyway, the curly-haired guy is Harry and the blonde one is Niall," Louis says, gesturing to them. "Harry, Niall, that's Zayn and that's Liam, who I didn't know until now."

Zayn looks at him in confusion. "Um, why'd you ask me to—"

"Oh, sick bro! That's such an amazing painting," Niall says, astonished. He and Harry had gravitated towards the mural while Louis' back was turned.

"It's brilliant. I love how you've blended everything together," Harry compliments.

Louis smiles smugly, "See? I'm not exaggerating your abilities. Other people think you're amazing."

"All of you except for Liam have only seen this particular piece. You can't just assume the rest of my work is like this one," Zayn says, exasperated. 

"The rest of his work is definitely not like this one. He's got way better ones in his studio," Liam says.

"A studio?" Louis asks.

"Yeah, but it was being renovated which is why he's out vandalizing in the first place. They finished two days ago, and yesterday was when everything was put back. We can go there now, right Zayn?" Liam says.

"Um..."

"I wanna see! Let's go!" Louis says to Liam. "Lead the way."

 

Niall whistles, "You have this place to yourself?"

"Uh, yeah," Zayn replies.

"There's a bed in here!" Louis shouts, throwing himself onto it. "Do you live here or something?"

"No."

"Zayn sleeps a lot. He'll be painting then suddenly he feels the need to have a nap," Liam says, ruffling Zayn's hair.

Zayn bats his hand away. "Don't touch my hair," he says petulantly.

"Don't worry, your hair still looks pretty," Louis says from the bed. He's lying on his front though, so his voice sounds muffled.

"You aren't even looking this way, Louis."

"I don't need to look."

"Zayn," Harry calls from the other side of the room where he's looking at some of his paintings with Niall, "Louis said you think you're not that good. That's complete rubbish. I would buy these."

"Me too," Niall agrees, "You're seriously talented, mate."

"See? You're A-M-A-Z-I-N-G," Louis stage whispers in Zayn's direction.

"Have you painted naked people?" Harry asks.

"Um, no," Zayn says.

"Pity. You can paint me naked, if you want to." Harry poses and Niall flicks him.

"Someone take a picture of Liam's face!" Louis laughs.

To say Liam looks horrified is an understatement. His eyes are bulging out of their sockets and his mouth is hanging open.

"You scared him, Haz," Niall says.

"Please, if anyone's going to scare him, it's Louis," Harry scoffs.

"Yeah, he always comes on too strong," Niall agrees.

Zayn snorts, "That's an understatement, mate. After three days he asked me if I'd ever measured my dick."

Liam's horrified expression makes a reappearance.

"It was during the _question game_ , Zayn!"

"The first week I met Louis, he came over unannounced and raided my kitchen. Despicable," Niall says, shaking his head.

"Shut up Niall, it's not like the food in there would've been missed by anyone except you, since you pretty much inhale anything edible."

"On the second day—"

" _Of Christmas my true love gave to me_ —ow, Harry!"

"Let me finish, Niall. On the second day that I knew Louis, he came over, and I didn't know. I was in the shower, and my mum let him in. So when I was done, I went downstairs—naked!—and when he saw me he had the audacity to say, 'Pretty decent, mate,' while eating my crisps!" 

"Are you questioning my friendship methods?" Louis asks. "Besides, it's not like any of you were complaining."

"I complained about your smelly feet," Niall supplies.

"I'm sorry, I can't hear you over the pop tarts I stole from your pantry that first week."

"Arse."

Louis blows Niall a kiss. Harry pretends to catch it and swoons.

"Harry! That was for me!" Niall cries.

"Mine," Harry says.

"Point proven, Zayn you're fantastic and you're entering that competition!" Louis says.

"What? I never agreed to this."

"You don't really have a choice. I already registered for you, sorry!" Louis says, not looking sorry at all. "By the way, there was a 5 pound entrance fee, so. Cough up."

 

Zayn needs to enter three pieces with set themes for the competition. The first is a watercolour painting of a landscape with some kind of whimsical and or magical element in it. The second is a charcoal sketch that needs to tell a story. The third task can be done any way the artist wants so long as it's a self-portrait of the artist with anything and everything about him or her incorporated in it. The winner gets a trophy and 200 pounds.

For the first painting, Zayn's chosen to paint a dark forest with beams of moonlight spilling in between the trees. Particularly vicious-looking fairies emanate a soft glow, illuminating the forest with colourful lights as they perform a fairy dance.

"Those fairies are so scary. Why are they scary? Fairies are supposed to be kind and gentle. They're not supposed to have pointy teeth, Zayn," Louis says from the bed.

"These are how fairies are _supposed_ to look. Disney takes everything and sugarcoats it. Mermaids are supposed to sing fishermen to their deaths, not fall in love with princes and have half-human half-mermaid children," Zayn replies.

"Ariel didn't have a kid!" Louis says. He's 97% sure that the movie didn't end with Ariel and Eric and a baby.

"Don't you have a little sister?" Zayn scoffs. "Hasn't she seen The Little Mermaid II: Return to the Sea?"

"I never even knew that movie existed," Louis grumbles. "How do you even know about that?"

"You're not the only one with a little sister."

Louis rolls his eyes, "Whatever. You know what your painting reminds me of? It reminds me of A Midsummer Night's Dream."

Zayn pauses and takes a step back from the easel. He tilts his head to the side and squints, "Yeah, I see that."

"You know what's weird?" Louis asks, for lack of anything better to say, "Photosynthesis. I mean, if you really think about it, plants are taking sunlight and turning it into sugar. You can't touch sunlight. I think plants have weird invisible fingers that they use to pluck sunlight out of the air. That's magical. Hey, you should've painted that."

"Next time," Zayn says halfheartedly, adding a hazy purple hue to the sky.

 

A few days after Zayn finishes the watercolour painting, he's ready to start the charcoal sketch but he doesn't know what to do. Louis is sitting on the floor, leaning on the bed, watching Zayn pace in front of the easel. He's turning the charcoal stick between his fingers, making them black. His eyebrows are furrowed and he's biting his lip. The timer on Louis' phone goes off, pulling Zayn from his thoughts. He blinks a few times. "What was that?"

"It was my timer," Louis answers, "telling me that you've been pacing for a grand total of ten minutes now."

Zayn sighs, "Sorry. I'm just stressed."

"Why are you apologizing? S'just a bit of artist's block that we need to unblock. Sit," he commands, motioning Zayn to come over. 

Zayn hesitates before setting down the charcoal stick and sitting on the floor adjacent to him. He can see the way Zayn is itching to go back. 

Louis pinches his nipple and ignoring Zayn's yelp, says, "Relax for a moment, okay?"

Zayn huffs, "I'm never entering an art competition again."

"Shut up and relax. Just close your eyes for a minute and breathe, okay?"

Zayn does as he's told. His eyelids flutter shut, and the expanse of his chest rises and falls with each breath. The wiggling of his foot is the only indication that he's not yet fully relaxed.

"Stop thinking," Louis murmurs.

Zayn lets out a frustrated noise, opening his eyes, "I need a story for the sketch."

"What you need," Louis says, standing up, "is a nap. Sleep on it. No use worrying over it."

Zayn's eyes narrow, "Louis—"

"It's getting late, anyway. C'mon, I'll even tuck you in," he says, pulling Zayn off the floor and throwing the blankets open. He has Zayn lie down (he figures he's too knackered to argue) and as promised, tucks him in. He sits back down on the floor and plays Candy Crush for a bit, occasionally checking on Zayn. Once Louis' sure he's asleep, he gets up to leave but pauses when he feels a hand wrapped around his wrist.

"Could you, um, stay?" Zayn mumbles into the pillow.

"Yeah?" Louis says.

"Just, like, until I fall asleep."

Louis nods. He sinks to the floor, leans against the bed and plays Candy Crush again.

(He ends up falling asleep at the studio. He wakes up with a cramp in his neck and a goes home to receive a lecture from his mum but what are mates for, yeah?)

 

Louis thinks that two heads put together is better than one but his head is shit which leads to him, Zayn, Harry, Niall, and Liam all trying to help Zayn come up with an idea. It seems that only Liam's trying to help; Harry and Niall have wandered off to look at more of Zayn's work and Louis is watching everything unfold in front of him like a hawk and participating in Liam and Zayn's conversation.

"Do the rules say it has to be your own story?" Liam asks, from where he's sitting on the floor playing with the wooden legs of the easel.

"No," Louis answers from his usual spot on the bed.

"The hard part is having the sketch speak volumes," Zayn says frustratedly from where he's sat next to Liam.

"Well what are you going for? Happy, gut-wrenching, funny?" Louis asks.

"At this rate anything's fine by me," Zayn laughs drily.

"Well maybe you should start with something simple," Liam says.

For a while it's silent except for the sound of Niall and Harry bickering over the cookies Harry brought.

Zayn eyes suddenly widen and he's scrambling to get up, "Liam, you are my favourite person."

"You're welcome?" he says, confused.

"Liam. Come here," Louis says, beckoning him over.

"Yeah?" Liam asks, scooting closer to the bed.

"Do you happen to know of the time Zayn snogged a toilet roll?" He asks.

The corner of Liam's eyes crinkle and he laughs, "Oh my God, yes. It was the best thing ever."

"I hear there's a video. Do you happen to have this video?"

"Ah, no. Our mate, Danny, has it, sorry."

"Was worth a shot," Louis shrugs. He looks over at Zayn to see Harry clinging to his leg like a koala and Niall laughing. "He's mine Harry, I found him first!" he cries, latching onto Zayn's other leg.

"But he has long eyelashes," Harry pouts.

"And Liam's got great arms," Louis counters. "Zayn, tell him you like me better."

"Would you two like to settle this with a jousting tournament? Whoever kills the other first is the one I like best," Zayn replies, already starting on his charcoal sketch.

"Can I join?" asks Niall the same time Liam says, "Jousting wasn't even a killing sport!"

"But people _did_ die," Zayn points out.

"Well, they weren't supposed to."

"Gee Liam, go tell people whether or not it's their choice that they ought to die."

"They _chose_ to participate in the tournament when they knew they could've died or gotten maim—"

"Are you planning to be a lawyer, Liam?" Louis interrupts.

"Uh, no."

"Pity. You should think about it."

"You're all weird," Niall says, chewing on one of Harry's cookies.

 

Louis brings his schoolwork to Zayn's studio because he has a biology quiz the next day. He figures he can study while Zayn finishes his sketch, which doesn't really end up happening. Instead, he's spouting off random nonsense about plants.

"When you pick a plant it secretes juice, but if it started secreting blood I wonder how many people would actually keep picking them?"

Zayn seems to ponder this. He then says, "A lot of people actually would. Humans are slaughterers. The government would probably need a law, or something. There would be a whole bunch of Plants Rights Activists protesting everywhere."

"Of course," Louis says, nodding his head vigorously, looking at his notes again. "Zayn, what's your take on reincarnation?"

"Um, I'm Muslim, so—"

"I reckon if I were to be reincarnated, I'd want to be a plant," Louis muses.

"What?" Zayn says.

"Shut up Zayn, even though you aren't facing this way I can feel you judging me. Plants are cool."

"I'm not judging you," Zayn assures him through muffled laughter.

"Yes, you are. I don't care about what you think anyway. You know if the human population were to be wiped out tomorrow, plants would still survive? They don't fully rely on us to give them carbon dioxide! They can get it from the atmosphere!" Louis says.

"I already—"

"You know a cool plant? The venus flytrap. It releases a really good smell and fucking seduces—"

"I think you mean _lures_ —"

"—insects into getting into its mouth. Haha. Gets in its mouth. Get it? I just made a blowjob joke."

"Hilarious."

"Shut up. Anyway, another cool plant is the pitcher plant! It's kinda like a toilet! It collects rainwater, and its—I don't know, lips?—release a sweet smell, _luring_ —are you happy Zayn? I used your word—insects into crawling or climbing onto it, and BAM! It slips inside, and after the insects have built up, it flushes it down—like a toilet—and digests it. Venus flytraps and pitcher plants are fucking sly, y'know? I'd love to be one of them."

"Good to know."

"No one needs your sarcasm, Zayn. If you really think about it, venus flytraps and pitcher plants are like the hookers of nature with all the seducing they do. Except they're not offering sex, they're gonna eat you. Out. Haha. I made an oral joke."

Zayn inwardly groans.

"But imagine a venus flytrap giving a blowjob! That looks like it would hurt. Don't they have teeth?"

"Ugh, Lou, shut up," Zayn says, wrinkling his nose. "that's gross. And no, those are just spikes. They don't hurt humans."

"Oh," Louis says. "Well, how about a pitcher plant giving a blowjob? I think if you closed your eyes it would kinda be like a girl sucking you off 'cause of the nice smell and stuff. Minus all the sucking, of course."

"Louis, that's disgusting. I don't want to hear anymore of your weird new plant obsession. I hope that if that Freaky Friday shit exists, we never swap bodies. The thought of it just made me shiver."

"Please, you know you would love a taste of being me. Also, I don't have a 'weird plant obsession', thank you very much."

"You know what, I wouldn't be surprised if you told me you smoked weed be—"

"I do! Only at parties though, 'cause I shotgun from other people."

"Of course."

"Do you think it's socially acceptable to become a hippie?"

Zayn raises an eyebrow.

"Aren't hippies high 24/7? That would be righteous, bro."

"Louis, please don't."

"I could make tie-dye shirts and grow my hair to my butt."

"Remind me why I didn't tell you to bugger off the day you stumbled into the alley and told me you were going to rat on me to the cops," Zayn says, rolling his eyes.

"I wasn't going to! And you put up with me because I'm likeable," Louis grins.

"Yeah, that's definitely the reason," Zayn snorts, rolling his eyes.

 

_Zayn Malik: Don't come to the studio today!!_

_Louis Tomlinson: Is this about the plant thing ?_

_Zayn Malik: No I just wana finish the 3rd one by myself :)_

Louis spends the rest of the day sulking to anyone who'll pay him any attention.

 

Louis, Niall and Harry all rush into the art gallery, their cheeks bitten red by the cold. Louis tugs off his beanie and runs his hands through his hair. He ushers the other two boys through the building towards where Zayn's station should be set up. The three boys' eyes curiously roam the room, looking at the other competitors' work ("Holy shit that's amazing," Niall says at one point, earning himself a slap from Louis and a stern, "Shut it Horan, we're here for Zayn."). He spots him in the corner with Liam, anxiously tapping his foot.

"Zaaayn!" Louis shouts, jumping on him.

"Ugh, Louis, get off," Zayn says.

He complies, shoving Zayn aside to look at his pieces. He sees the watercolour painting ("Those fairies are still creepy.") before his eyes flicker over to the charcoal sketch; a dark room filled with a collection of toys and items a typical little boy would have in his room. A large window above the boy's bed overlooks a tall oak tree with a _Missing Child_ sign taped to its trunk, a young boy's face printed on the paper. Louis' head whips around to look at Zayn with a horrified expression on his face. "Is this what I think it is?"

"I don't know," Zayn shrugs. "What do you think it is?"

"You're horrible," Louis says, shaking his head. He turns to the self-portrait. Zayn's painted himself comic-book style, the background different colours with a stained-glass texture to it. An assortment of things to represent Zayn are scattered around (Louis sees the Hulk and says, "I still think Iron Man's better.") and Zayn's name spray painted across the bottom. "This is fucking fantastic. You never cease to amaze me. Great job, man!"

"You think?" Zayn looks agitated; his eyes constantly darting to where the judges are roaming around the room with clipboards, eyeing the competitors' work and taking notes. "There are others that are much better than mine."

"Shut up," Louis says, putting a hand over Zayn's mouth. He hears Niall and Harry laughing and turns around to see them petting Liam's shaved head. "Mate, you cut off all your hair!" he says.

"I dreamed about the scene from Mulan where she sliced her hair with the sword. Figured it was my calling to shave my hair and go to war," Liam says solemnly.

They all laugh, and Louis is relieved to see some of the tension leaving Zayn.

 

The judges are about to announce the winner and Zayn's reverted to his anxious state. Even Niall looks nervous; he's biting his nails.

A very professional looking man with a suit and a crooked toupee walks onto the platform and clears his throat, asking for silence. He speaks into a microphone, gives a boring speech (which Louis doesn't listen to, instead choosing to shoot silly faces at Zayn who halfheartedly chastises him) and thanks the keeper of the gallery for providing them with the space to hold the competition. He hands the mic over to a more sophisticated looking man (who doesn't have a toupee) and steps off the platform, people politely clapping for him.

"Good evening everyone," the man says, smiling at everyone warmly. "All of you have done extraordinarily, the judges are extremely impressed. Well, enough beating around the bush, the judges have decided that the person to receive bronze is Cher Lloyd!" The room fills with the sound of clapping again. Cher hops onto the platform and smiles. The man gives Cher her medal and congratulates her before giving a short speech about her "fantastic pieces".

A boy named Aiden Grimshaw comes in second place, looking so shocked he stumbles on the edge of the platform.

Once everyone settles down the man speaks again, "This person completely blew the judges away with their talent and creativity." Louis feels Zayn shaking next to him so he takes his hand and squeezes it. "The person to receive the trophy and 200 pounds is..." The man pauses for dramatic effect, "Zayn Malik!"

Louis lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. He pulls Zayn (whose eyes are bugging out of his head) into a hug, Harry, Niall and Liam clapping him on the back. He pushes him toward the platform and whistles and claps (the loudest out of everyone).

 

After Zayn is done taking pictures with the judges while holding his trophy and cheque, he stumbles over to Louis, Liam, Niall and Harry grinning from ear to ear. 

"Group hug!" Harry shouts, pulling them all in together.

"I'm so proud of you!" Liam tells Zayn sincerely once they all stop hugging (which lasts for a good five minutes thanks to Harry).

"You did it, mate!" Niall says, beaming at Zayn. "Come over to mine, let's have a pint or two."

"I can't believe I'm going to be in the newspaper," Zayn breathes. "I can't believe I won."

Louis throws his arm around his neck and brings his head down to give him a noogie. "Look at you, huh? What'd I tell you! Do you still doubt yourself?"

"Louis, you're messing up my hair!" Zayn cries.

"Do you doubt yourself?" Louis repeats.

"No!" Zayn chokes out.

"Good," Louis says, releasing him.

Zayn scowls at him, reaching up to fix his hair. "I hate you."

Louis twists his nipple, smiling fondly at him. "No, you don't."


End file.
